


The Garage

by logicalwritings



Series: Sanders Sides Misc. Work [9]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Psychological Torture, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 09:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13315095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/logicalwritings/pseuds/logicalwritings
Summary: Thesis: Logic can be replaced.





	The Garage

It was late on a Sunday evening when Logan got the chance to sit down and relax with a book. Rain pelted against the windows of Thomas’ apartment. Logan would have liked to think that everyone was asleep and exhausted after a long day of hard but satisfying work. However, he knew Virgil was probably brooding and worried about everyone’s reactions to their latest video; matter of fact, he’d only left his room for a moment to make sure Thomas had posted it in the first place. Roman was likely going over all the places where he might have underperformed by his own standards.

 _Patton and Thomas would be the only ones truly sleeping_ , Logan corrected to himself. With a soft sigh, he shut his book and gently laid it on the cushions. He crept quietly off the couch and then made his way into the kitchen of the mindscape. The light was on but dimmed. The table sat unoccupied, two chairs pushed out. Several plates were still laid out, crumbs from cookies scattered across the table.

Logan stacked the plates, set them in the sink, pushed in the chairs, and then flicked out the light. He made his way down the halls to check in on Virgil; the anxious side would be the easiest to coax into going to sleep. Roman would be far harder for he seemed to be in direct opposition to whatever Logan suggested.

The shadows of the night were admittedly a little uncanny as Logan made his way down the halls. Logan appreciated being the only one out of his room at night most often because he could finally get some peace. No one to bother him; no foolish and needless arguing or stress. Just Logan and his thoughts.

He stopped beside Virgil’s door and reached for the knob only to halt his motion upon hearing a soft hiss in the blackness. Logan lowered his hand and turned around to see a new door made of metal unlike any of the other’s rooms, which were made of wood. A hiss sounded once again and Logan stepped over so that he was standing right in front of the peculiar door.

He reached over and twisted the knob. The hissing didn’t sound again. Logan pushed open the door and was met with complete darkness. He stepped into the room and fumbled along the walls for a light switch which he found within a few seconds. Upon flicking it on, the room was bathed in light. Logan stepped away from the doorway and let the heavy door click shut behind him.

The room was laid out like a garage; it was big and square with a massive metal door at the other end of the room that lifted up, a latch keeping it against the ground. The room was filled with hundreds of boxes and one desk was in the middle of the room. An old leather chair was pushed into the desk and several books and pens sat neatly on the surface. A laptop was plugged into a docking station in the middle. It was something straight out of Logan’s dreams.

“How have I never seen this room?” Logan whispered quietly to himself. He made his way over to the desk and flicked open one of the notebooks.

The first page consisted of one typed word: _Virgil_. Logan froze, still grasping the cover with his thumb and index finger. He flipped to the next page. Once again, the words were typed and read: _There is nothing but inconsistency and irrationality when it comes to fear and anxiety._ Logan flipped to the next page. It read:

_Thesis: Anxiety Sanders is unnecessary for the basic functions of Thomas Sanders._

Logan slid the notebook off the pile and flicked open the next one.

_Patton._

_There is nothing but inconsistency and irrationality when it comes to love and morality._

_Thesis: Morality Sanders is unnecessary for the basic functions of Thomas Sanders._

Logan slipped it away to the next notebook.

_Roman._

_There is nothing but inconsistency and irrationality when it comes to creativity and romance._

_Thesis: Creativity Sanders is unnecessary for the basic functions of Thomas Sanders._

There was only one notebook left; it was blue and looked the most worn down of them all. Logan carefully flicked it open.

_Logan._

_Logic is the embodiment of consistency and rationality._

_Thesis: Logic Sanders can be replaced._

Logan froze. Suddenly, the room seemed far more sinister. The light hum of the laptop on the table seemed to grow louder and the bookshelves no longer looked inviting; they looked like great big looming monsters. It wasn’t comforting in the slightest to be in the room anymore.

Logan re-piled the stack of notebooks and adjusted them back exactly as he had found them. He made his way over to the door to twist the knob.

He was met with resistance; the door had been locked.

-O-

“Rise and shine, kiddo!” Virgil sat up grumpily and rubbed his eyes as Patton walked around his room cheerfully. Patton pulled aside the curtains and let in the dim light from outside. Apparently, it had rained for it was dull and grey out, the sun barely peeking through the clouds outside.

“I’ve got pancakes sizzling in the pan downstairs and you’ve been locked away all weekend, so I expect you to come down this morning!”

“Hungh,” Virgil grumbled sleepily. He rolled over, grabbing the covers as he went. Patton snatched the covers from his hands and pulled them off the bed. He began to fold them neatly and set them aside as Virgil rolled out of bed, grabbing his hoodie.

“Good job, kiddo!” Patton said. “I’ll be downstairs, okay?”

Virgil grunted in response and made his way to the bathroom where he “brushed his teeth” (ran water over his brush for a good minute then set it in his mouth for another), and then shuffled his hoodie on his body. Then he sank down to the kitchen.

Roman was blasting the Mulan soundtrack as he wrote frantically in a thick notebook, shovelling periodic bites of pancakes in his mouth as he did so. Patton was busily pouring batter into a pan, little bits of flour dusting the tips of his hair. Virgil made his way to the table and sat down with a huff.

“What’s got you all grumpy?” Roman asked, still focused on whatever he was writing.

“I’m not grumpy,” Virgil snapped. “I’m just tired.”

“Hi Just Tired, I’m Dad,” Patton said, setting out a smooth white plate. Virgil rolled his eyes but cracked a smile.

“Where’s Logan?” he asked.

“Mmm, he’s been in his room, probably still polishing up the plans for Thomas this week,” Patton explained.

“Oh, so Specs can stay in his room, but I can’t?”

“Logan is being productive, whereas you are being broody,” Roman cut in.

“What are you _doing_?” Virgil asked.

“Writing.”

“Writing what?”

Roman huffed. “None of your business.”

“Whatever,” Virgil said, raising his hands in surrender. Patton walked over with two fluffy pancakes on the end of his turner. He placed them carefully on Virgil’s plate and walked over to begin making his own. Virgil poured syrup over the stack of his pancakes then said, “Isn’t a bit odd for Logan to just skip breakfast though? He’s always the one drilling it into our heads that we need three full meals a day.”

“You know how Logan gets when he’s working,” Roman said.

“Doesn’t make it okay,” Virgil grumbled as he shoved a bite into his mouth.

Breakfast continued on nearly silently, someone only once every so often asking to pass the syrup or help gather the dishes. Afterward, Virgil left the kitchen and made his way down to Logan’s room. He didn’t care what the others were saying; it just wasn’t like Logan to lock himself away entirely. Logan had even said before that he felt more productive to work in the living room than shut away in his room.

Virgil knocked on the door to Logan’s room. “Logan? Can I come in?”

He was met with silence. Curious, Virgil pushed open the door and peeked inside. Upon doing so, he frowned and walked the rest of the way into the room. Logan’s bed was still made from the day before, the covers neatly tucked in at every corner. Everything remained in place; his drawers were all neatly shut. His desk chair was pushed in, three sharpened pencils sitting on top of a finished productivity plan. His laptop was shut and still switched off. The room was tidy, but Virgil could tell no one had been in it since the night before.

Logan would fold his pyjamas and place them at the end of his bed each night; the pyjamas were not in their usual spot. Logan always set out a pair of clothes and hung them up outside his closet for the next day. The clothes were still there. The bathroom door was shut and the light was off.

Virgil felt unease settle in his stomach. None of any of it felt like Logan at all. Virgil walked out of the room, closing the door behind him and headed back down to the kitchen where Patton was whistling as he washed dishes. Roman was nowhere in sight.

“Logan isn’t in his room,” Virgil said.

Patton paused and frowned. Then carefully said, “Are you certain?”

“Positive. He hasn’t been in there since last night.”

Patton switched the water faucet off and dried his hands on a towel. A worried frown pressed into his brow. “That’s not good.”

“No,” Virgil agreed.

“Gather up the others. Family meeting.”

Soon enough Thomas, Patton, Roman, and Virgil were all in the living room thanks to Virgil and Patton going through and gathering them up. “Do you feel weird in any way?” Virgil asked with a frown. “In any way at all?”

“No,” Thomas said with a shrug. “I feel fine. What’s going on?”

The three gave quick glances at each other until Roman spoke up. “Logan’s missing. And you’re not acting any differently?”

“Logan’s- oh. Oh. No wonder it’s just you three,” Thomas said.

“That’s beside the point. We need to know what possibly could have happened to Logan,” Virgil said. “So. Any ideas?”

“I saw him last night,” Patton said. “After we posted the video.”

“I went up to my room and that was the last I saw of him,” Roman said.

“I saw him after we posted it and then we all went and split up,” Virgil said.

“Me too,” Thomas agreed. “And no one saw him this morning?”

Virgil shook his head. “Everything in his room is in place. His pyjamas are missing and his clothes are still there; he’s somewhere just not… here.”

“The question is where,” Roman said.

“Maybe we should split up,” Thomas said. “Look around the mind palace and see where he could have gone.”

“Valiant idea, Thomas!” Roman said drawing his sword. Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Where should we look?”

“I can look in the garage!” Patton said then instantly slapped a hand over his mouth as if he hadn’t meant to say that.

Virgil frowned, turning to Patton who looked eager to snatch the words right back and stuff them down his throat. “What?” Virgil asked, voice demanding an explanation.

“The garage?” Thomas asked cautiously. “Like- the apartment garage?”

“No, the one in the mindscape,” Patton explained quietly. “You know.”

“No,” Roman said, confusion evident and mirroring Virgil’s own. “No, we don’t.”

Patton looked sheepishly at everyone who was giving him looks from frustrated to perplexed. Virgil crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

“You might wanna explain, Dad.”

Patton swallowed. “Uhm… we have a garage? Surprise?”

Everyone groaned.

-O-

Logan was not the type to panic. However, after yanking, pulling, and admittedly even punching the door, it did not budge; he was officially trapped inside the room. He turned to look at the end of the room, an idea popping into his mind; there was a chance that large door could be an exit.

Logan crept over to the end of the room where the big door was, looming tall with its thick metal latch. He reached and carefully pulled the latch upward. It let out a loud groan then slammed against the metal surface of the door with a _clang!_ Then the door began to slowly rise and dark mists began to seep through the slowly growing gap. Logan grabbed the door and began to wrench it downward, but it wouldn’t budge. It kept going upward, perhaps a bit slower due to Logan’s efforts.

The room was beginning to fill with the black fog. It was so thick and smothering that the lights were beginning to dim until they were completely coated; Logan could no longer see anything around himself besides the thick black smoke. He began to wheeze, feeling dizzy and exhausted.

It was growing hard to think logically with his mind so muddled by the desire to breathe, but he ducked to the ground and laid on his belly. The air was a little thinner, but by no means did it provide a sustainable relief. Logan crawled, careful to stay as close to the ground as possible as he made his way across the room again. He couldn’t see anything; his head was so heavy and dizzy.

For a terrifying moment, Logan realized he was drifting off, face pressed against the cool concrete. Opening his eyes burned, but he managed and continued on crawling. His muscles were quivering- they were begging him to lay down. To _give up_. With a final grunt, Logan relaxed his limbs and laid on the ground, body shuddering with exhaustion and dropping adrenaline.

_Giving up isn’t logical, Logan. This isn’t logical. You could die. Hypothesis: If the gas is poisonous, you will die within a timeframe. Estimated timeframe: Minutes. Seconds. Hours. ~~Get up, Logan. Be logical. Be logical. Be logical.~~_

Logan moved his right arm to try and push himself back up again, but the arm flopped uselessly beside his buzzing ribs. His muscles still felt like trembling spoonfuls of jelly. He needed to get up; Thomas couldn’t function without him-

_Thesis: Logic Sanders can be replaced._

With one last shudder, Logan’s eyes slid shut, body still jerking and shaking.

-O-

_“From a logical standpoint- which is the better idea?” Roman asked, shoving forward two folders._

_Logan flicked the first one open with a sigh. “Dragon-witches? Again?” he asked the thirteen-year-old. Roman peered at Logan anxiously._

_“Yeah. Or killer shark snakes.”_

_“Neither make any logical sense.”_

_“So? They’re not supposed to,” Roman said. “Which is better?”_

_“They’re both nonsensical and ludicrous.”_

_Roman sucked his bottom lip in through his teeth. “You hate them.”_

_“That is not what I said.”_

_“You hate them,” Roman repeated._

_“Stop being foolish- I feel no such way. They’re illogical, however, not bad. I prefer… the dragon-witch one.”_

_Roman’s eyes lit up. “I’ll put it into Thomas right away!”_

_“Woah, woah, woah; what?”_

_“We need to get started!”_

_Logan rolled his eyes. “We have to edit it first.”_

_“Oh. I don’t like editing though.”_

_“Well, why don’t I edit it then?”_

_“Would you really?” Roman asked._

_“Yes.”_

_Roman grinned. “Thank you, Logan. You’re the best.”_

-O-

Logan groaned as he sat up, gently placing his fingertips against his temples. His head was throbbing, entire body sore as if he had run a marathon. He took deep breaths, coughing when they seemed to rattle his entire chest. He put a hand there, carefully massaging at it, feeling hollow and an unexplainable ache.  

“The infamous Logan awakes. Thank God it’s you in here, not one of the other insufferable emotional faucets.”

Logan blinked, startling back as he saw a tall man who looked like Thomas, but… different. He had at least three inches on Thomas and more than five on Logan. His under eye bags were deep and purple; the eyes themselves looked amused, but deeply troubled at the same time. His hair was not purple like Thomas’, but brown and dingy, messed up and thrown carelessly to one side, overgrown by Logan’s standards.

“You can speak, can’t you?”

“I can speak,” Logan said, surprised at the scratchiness in his throat. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Who are you?”

The man raised an eyebrow. “Patton never told you? Huh. Well. I’m Apathy. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Logan. Forgive me for not being thrilled.”

“Apathy…” Logan frowned. “Thomas has… Apathy?”

Apathy rolled his eyes. “Yes, you’re catching on, aren’t you?”

“What is your name, then?”

Apathy scowled. “I’m not worthy of a name, now am I?”

Logan stood up, ignoring the horrible ache growing over his body. “I assumed you had one like the rest of us do. I apologise.”

“Hm. I’ll accept it.” Apathy smiled, revealing perfect teeth. “I figure you can help me.”

“What are you wanting me to assist you with?” Logan asked. His hands twitched, desperate to rub his chest again, but he forced his hands to remain at his side. He had no idea what this Apathy was or if he were villainous. It was most unwise to show weakness in front of a potential enemy.

“You and I… we’re quite reasonable.”

“I cannot come to that conclusion, as I do not know you,” Logan said plainly.

“Clever,” Apathy said with a snort. “But you’re reasonable, right?”

“I am.”

“Cool. And the others… not so much?”

Logan frowned. “To say ‘not so much’ is an understatement. I often wonder if reason is even in their capacity.”

Apathy laughed again as if he and Logan were sharing an inside joke. “I suppose so. I can’t help but consider… they often make Thomas act unreasonably, don’t they? Must make your job pretty tough.”

“One could… say that, perhaps,” Logan agreed.

“See this garage, Logan?” Apathy asked. “It’s not a bad place, is it?”

“No,” Logan said. “Is it your home?”

“At first it was. Patton made it for me.”

“Patton… made it for you?” Logan asked.

“Mhm.”

Logan considered something. “You said ‘at first.’ Is it no longer where you reside?”

Apathy shook his head. “Patton locked the damn door. He locked me in here. And when I tried to escape- he locked me in there.” Apathy pointed to the other large door where the gas had come in through. Logan shuddered. Apathy gave an understanding look. “I don’t blame Patton- he was just frightened. But he had no right to repress an essential part of Thomas. I kept Thomas from feeling too much and acting irrationally. You took over my place.”

“I apologise- I never-”

“You never knew,” Apathy said with a light hum. “Exactly. I don’t blame you, sweetheart.” The pet name sent a cold chill down Logan’s spine and he couldn’t explain why. “But I want out of here. That stupid door is meant to keep me in. I can’t leave. But I bet you can.” He gave Logan a desperate, hungry look. “I just want to explain to Thomas- I want to reason with Patton.”

“You want me to open the door for you,” Logan said.

“I do.” Apathy gave a little nod and smiled. Logan looked him over then noticed, strapped at his side, was a sword near-identical to Roman’s. It glowed a faint hue of red and suddenly, Logan felt sick to his stomach.

Roman’s sword was one of the few actual working weapons in the mindscape. Regular knives, guns, and other weapons they conjured would harm, but they couldn’t kill. Roman’s, however, could banish a side to the subconscious. Lock them away forever. It made sense for Roman to have it, considering he was the one who pushed Thomas to his hopes and dreams and was to destroy anything that got in the way.

But Roman had never used his sword- not even when Anxiety was giving them issues, or Logan shot down his ideas, or Patton seemed to be keeping Thomas… stuck.

Two swords had been created; one for Roman and another for Patton. But Patton had lost his ages ago. Patton had just shrugged and said, “I didn’t need it anyway.”

But there it was, hooked onto Apathy’s belt.

Apathy didn’t want to reason with anyone; he was armed and ready to kill.

-O-

“So.” Roman folded his hands and leaned forward looking more serious than ever. Virgil, Roman, and Patton had told Thomas they had things handled and would touch base with him later. So they all sat in the living room of the mindscape, all serious and Patton looking like a cornered animal. “The garage, huh?”

“Yeah,” Patton said. “It’s uhm… a dangerous room in the mindscape that you guys haven’t seen.”

Roman raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well, uhm, you guys don’t know about it. Because I meant it to be that way.” Patton chewed the inside of his cheek. “I created it,” Patton admitted.

Roman flung his hands up and ran a hand through his hair. Virgil felt his heart thudding with anxiety, but he powered on to ask, “You created it? Tell us… tell us everything. No protecting us and giving us the sugared version.”

Patton took a deep breath. “It’s not a bad place- it’s nice. I created it for Apathy and Hate in the very early years of Thomas’ development to keep them inside and away from Thomas so they couldn’t hurt him. Hate started getting… harder to control, so I put him in another part of the mindscape. And even though I have Hate mostly under control- Apathy is a bit harder. I couldn’t move him without him shutting down half of Thomas’ emotional responses. So I locked the door and left him here.” Patton tapped the door. “Apathy wasn’t as terrible of an enemy as Hate, but he’s still… vicious. He doesn’t like feelings.” Patton fiddled the sleeves of the cat hoodie nervously. “Matter of fact, he hates them. They’re everything he fights against. But I didn’t want to hurt him,” Patton explained tearfully. “So I left him in the garage. It was like everyone else’s rooms just…”

“You couldn’t get out,” Roman finished, comprehension dawning over his face. Patton nodded.

“Apathy created an extension of the room. It’s in the back of the garage. It’s like a booby-trap; it’s controlled with a big latch. As soon as someone opens the latch, they release a toxin created by Apathy. It triggers self-doubt and regret. It numbs a side’s ability to feel useful. It numbs them and renders them useless. So they’ll be trapped with Apathy. I locked him inside the extension he created instead of… killing him.”

“I tried to hide the door after finding out what Apathy did. I didn’t want to risk anyone stumbling on it. I went in the garage. I fought the numbness, trapped Apathy on the other side of his door inside the garage, and I re-latched it. Since I created the door, I could open it from inside. I left and hid the door with repression. Everyone ignored the wall unless I wanted them to see it.”

“How’d Logan find it then?” Virgil asked. Then quickly rushed to add, “If he found it that is.”

“Apathy must have gotten stronger and lulled Logan to the door…” Fresh tears spilt down Patton’s face. “You know how curious he gets.”

Patton stood up and walked over to the halls and touched a bare part of the wall. A door slowly appeared and with a hopeless little twist of the doorknob, Patton sighed. “I… I was afraid of this.”

“What?” Virgil asked.

“It’s locked. I can’t get it.”

“Why can’t you unlock the door?” Roman asked. “You created it!” Panic was spreading over his face.

Patton touched the knob and gave it another quick turn as if it magically might unlock. “Apathy’s been released from the other door in there. He has control of the room. He’s preventing anyone from coming in. It just won’t let him out; that’s all.”

“That’s not good,” Virgil said, heart rate rising.

“Understatement,” Roman said. “What are we gonna do?”

“Logan would know what to do,” Patton mumbled then burst into a fresh wave of tears.

“None of that,” Roman chided softly and reached forward to wipe tears from Patton’s cheeks.

“Is there any other way to get in?” Virgil asked. “Like… another passage? Something like that.”

Patton fumbled with his sleeves and finally said, “Well… kinda.”

“What do you mean ‘kinda’?” Roman asked.

“There’s a path I created in case I really needed to get there… but it leads to Apathy’s extension of the garage. Not the actual garage. So we’d have to go through there.”

Virgil looked grimly between Patton and Roman. “Is there any other way?”

Patton shifted on his feet. “No,” he said.

“Then let’s do it,” Virgil said.

Roman looked surprised. “Well. I never thought I’d see the day Virgil would take the first adventurous step. But. Here we are.”

He looked to Patton and gave a grim smile. “Lead the way, Padre.”

-O-

“Well?” Apathy asked.

Logan swallowed, gathering up all of the bravery he could manage. “I am afraid it is not in Thomas’ best interest for me to open that door.” Logan decided to not include that he wasn’t sure if he would even be able to open the door in the first place; Apathy didn’t need to know that.

Suddenly, Apathy was no longer smiling or even bothering to look polite. He scowled. “What?”

Logan gestured to Apathy’s sword. “That does not belong to you. You have no reason to possess it.”

“Oh, silly me.” Apathy laughed. “Patton accidentally locked it up with me when he shut the door. I’ve just… kept it.”

“I’d be a fool to believe that,” Logan said.

Apathy snarled. “Logan, darling; you’re making a bad choice.”

“I am making the logical one.”

Apathy glared. “Can’t you see eye to eye with me? Come now.”

“You are acting out of revenge and anger. I will play no part in it.” The room began to shake as if a result of a light earthquake. Logan lost his balance, holding himself up against the desk.

“Then you choose your destruction. The roof’s gonna crumble,” Apathy said. “And you won’t be able to move. Unless of course… You want to open that door for me?”

“You are lying- trying to distort my reasoning,” Logan said. “There is no way you can make the roof collapse.”

“Lying? Why would I lie?”

Logan frowned. “I- do not know. Perhaps to scare me.”

“I’m not lying. It’s not logical for me to lie.”

“You are not logical- apathy is not logical,” Logan said. “I do not… I do not understand your argument. You have no true control of this room. You said that Patton created it; does he not have control over it, not you?”

“Patton has never had control over the inside of this room, just the stupid door,” Apathy snarled. “You’d think we’d be on the same side, Logan. Feelings are illogical. They provide no benefit. Just… Let me help Thomas. You have the power to let me out of this room. Why don’t you just do it?”

“Apathy is not the answer. Apathetic people- they get killed. They are easily hurt and vulnerable.”

“No more than letting feelings guide your every move,” Apathy said.

“You’re letting your feelings guide you,” Logan said. “You are merely contributing to the problem!”

“I’m sick of this- open the damn door, Logan.”

Logan steeled himself, sucking in a short breath of air. Roman would be proud; he was acting bravely, was he not? And then Patton- Patton would say he was acting out of _love_.

Virgil would just call it self-preservation.

“No,” he said.

Apathy let out an angry shriek of anger and flung his hands downward. Before Logan could even prepare himself, the entire roof was collapsing- falling toward the ground rapidly. Logan jerked downward and tried to protect his head as the heavy materials fell over him.

Dust clung to the air like glitter glue to Roman and Patton’s poster boards. Logan groaned in pain as he tried to wriggle out of the wreckage. His waist was pinned under a heavy weight that seemed to go straight through his entire body. His ribs were undeniably broken, making his breathing laboured and frightened, like a small animal. Apathy looked down, lip curled.

“Now. I’m not letting you go until you unlock the door.

-O-

The three stood at the tiny door, no one saying a word. Virgil stared ahead, hands shaking slightly at his sides. He stuffed them in his hoodie pockets and let out a huff of air.

“Bit small, isn’t it?”

Patton pushed his hand against the tiny door and it grew to its full height, still short for a door (about 5’2”), but still tall enough for everyone to duck and get through.

“Well. The door that leads right into a booby-trap,” Virgil mumbled.

Roman snorted. “Apparently.”

“So. Who’s going first?” Virgil asked.

Roman looked hesitant, but drew his sword and stood to his full height. “Follow me.”

-O-

Logan squirmed under the weight of the fallen ceiling. Through the buzzing in his mind- the apathy that was pushing so hard to win- he felt a sharp ache in his ribs. His breathing was pained and erratic. He felt like his ribs were rattling inside him, scratching at the soft muscle and tissue inside. A soft whine escaped his lips as he tried to pull himself from under the wreckage but to no avail.

“Give _up_ ,” Apathy said. “Good God, Logan. What would the others say?”

“Their opinions are irrelevant at the present moment,” Logan choked out.

Apathy rolled his eyes. “Stop squirming.” Logan inadvertently obeyed, body relaxing for a moment. The pain caught up with him and he let out a loud gasp. “Open the door. I’ll fix your ribs. I’ll make the pain go away. All you have to do is open the door.”

Logan shook his head. “The pros outweigh the cons in this situation.”

Apathy tsked and leaned over, kicking Logan. Logan chomped down on his lip to withhold the whimper against his mouth. “Do they, now?”

Logan nodded.

Apathy leaned over. “Cruelty doesn’t help, does it? You’re not easy to break…”

Logan shuddered at the tone which was growing softer, more calculating as it had been moments ago when Logan had awoken. God, he just wanted Roman to come bursting in with his stupid bravado and drive his sword through Apathy’s heart. Or Virgil to nervously grovel, trying to figure out a solution. Shakily run his fingers across Logan; ask him how he could help. Or Patton to pull him into one of his painfully tight hugs and then worry over him and put him in a soft bed with soft covers and soft pillows-

Tears were falling onto the ground. _Be logical, Logan. Those thoughts are warped perceptions fueled by a lustful desire for safety. You must not let feelings control you._

Apathy bent down and cupped Logan’s chin. Logan wanted to spit right in his face and he almost did, but Apathy swiped his thumbs over the few tears of pain that had escaped Logan’s eyes and Logan was left buzzing with numbness and wondering, dreaded _wondering_ once more. What was happening?

“Don’t you hate this garage? I hate it too,” Apathy said. He stroked a hand down Logan’s face. Logan was vaguely aware his jaw was slack, mouth open and confused. His skin stung at the contact, begging for Logan to jerk away. He couldn’t; his body hurt too badly.

“I’ve been stuck in here for a long time. We can leave though. Don’t you wanna leave, Logan?” Without meaning to, Logan nodded. “Open the door.”

Logan’s breathing shuddered. “I can’t,” he confessed mechanically, almost as if something were forcing the words out of him against his will.

Apathy went deadly still and quiet. Then, “What do you mean?”

“I tried and I cannot. We are both trapped here until we die.” Apathy looked livid. He jerked his hands away from Logan and Logan yelped as his chin hit the floor.

“I refuse to believe you.”

“Then you decide to be an ignorant halfwit. Congratulations.”

Apathy kicked Logan; his mouth leaked blood once again and he cursed himself for the one-millionth time for expressing discontent when it came to hanging around the other sides. They had nothing- _nothing_ on Apathy.

-O-

“It’s so dark in here,” Virgil mumbled from behind Roman.

“It’s a path less travelled, Hot Topic,” Roman said, “so of course it’s gonna be dark. It’s like a grim fairytale in some ways, isn’t it?” Virgil shuddered and Roman softened somewhat; he ran a hand over Virgil’s arm. “This is the only other way to get to Logan, so we’re all gonna have to be brave.”

“I’m not brave,” Virgil grumbled.

“Anyone can be brave!” Patton said cheerfully but he too looked worried and frightened.

Virgil rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I guess so.”

The three continued down the dark tunnel, Patton in the lead, Roman behind him, and Virgil behind them all. Eventually, they reached a small wooden door with a golden latch keeping it closed.

“Well. Now what?” Virgil asked.

Roman reached forward, brushing a hand over the latch. “We should open it?” But he sounded just as hesitant and nervous as Virgil felt.

“Let’s do it,” Patton said, but he made no move to open the latch. They all stared at it.

Finally, Virgil moved forward and flicked the latch up and the door creaked as it flung open on its own. It revealed yet another dark, long tunnel. Roman groaned.

“Is this for real?”

“Looks pretty real to me,” Virgil said.

“I can’t tell if that’s ignorance or sarcasm but I know I hate both of those attitudes,” Roman said.

Virgil smirked. “Lead the way, Princey.”

-O-

Logan shuddered. The cold air was beginning to get to him; he felt like his lungs were full of fluid. He watched Apathy pace back and forth, back and forth, all the while clutching his sword. Finally, he jerked his left hand up and the rubble fixed itself back against the ceiling. Logan gasped upon the sudden absence of weight on his body.

“Get up. You’re gonna help me find a way out of here.”

“I refuse.”

Apathy stormed over and slapped Logan in the face. “Stand. Up.”

Logan forced himself up, his entire body screaming in protest. His ribs felt like they were moving, stabbing into his skin as he moved. “How do you propose you’re going to get out of here?” Logan asked.

“We can attempt to break the door. Come.” Apathy slid a supportive arm around Logan’s waist and it took all of Logan’s strength not to jerk away. “We’re going to slam against it and maybe that’ll at least weaken the hinges.”

“I told you, I am not helping.”

Apathy gritted his teeth. “Help or I’ll break your fingers as well.”

Logan gritted his teeth, deciding that helping to slam against the door was a better option than having his fingers broken on top of his ribs. “Fine,” he said. “Let’s get this over with.”

The two backed up, Apathy curling his arm into Logan’s arm and away from his waist. Logan’s mind began going into overdrive; he needed a way to get out of here. Or a way to… terminate Apathy. But he couldn’t grab Apathy’s sword. It was on his side opposite of Logan’s hip and Logan feared that he couldn’t reach and yank it with the weakness he was feeling.

“On the count of three, we charge. Ready? 1.”

_“How do you summon your sword, Roman?” Logan had asked one night. “You know- when you leave it in your room?”_

“2.”

_“I think creatively, creating its shape in my mind and feeling its presence. It’s pretty easy.” Roman shrugged, nonchalant. It didn’t sound easy._

“3!” The two ran, crashing into the door. Logan heard the hinges creak, but the door did not give, only slipping from the notch the latch was secured in by a half of a centimetre. Logan panted, the jolt making his ribs feel as if they had been jerked from his body and turned to mush; Logan couldn’t breathe.

Apathy gave a great whoop of joy and examined the hinges. While he was distracted, Logan began to test something.

Maybe he could summon Roman’s sword if he thought of it hard enough. He began picturing the shape; its edges and blade. The hilt. The slight curve of its body.

“I’ll need you to hit against it again and I think that might help- What are you doing?” Apathy snapped.

Logan’s hand was jutted out, eyes screwed shut as he worked with every bit of his energy to conjure the sword. _Please. I only need it once, Roman. Please-_

“Stop it! Stop that!” Apathy shouted. He reached forward and grabbed Logan by the shoulders. Logan’s eyes flew open and his hands jerked back to protect his ribs. The sound of metal clattering to the floor echoed across the room and Logan saw, to his shock, Roman’s sword lying on the floor.

“What the hell?” Apathy yelled.

Logan dove for it, ignoring the pain. He held it, balanced in his hands, perfectly fitting in his fist. Is this how… right Roman felt whenever he held it?

Apathy rolled his eyes. “Oh come now, Logan, you’re not gonna stab me, are you? Pathetic.”

“You have no control over what I do.”

Apathy kicked him to the ground, sword clattering out of Logan’s hands. Logan’s body screamed in pain and he muffled a physical one in his throat. “What’re you gonna do once you get rid of me, huh? You don’t have the strength to break the door. You’ll never get out of here.”

“The others will find me.”

“They don’t care. They probably haven’t even noticed you’re missing. They’ll never come find you.”

Logan glared and forced himself up, blood leaking from somewhere on his midsection. _Not good_. He reached forward for Roman’s sword but Apathy stuck out his booted foot and kicked it across the cement floor of the garage. It hit the wall and skidded to a stop. “Yes they do,” Logan choked out. “Thomas wouldn’t survive without me. I am essential.”

“You’re replaceable,” Apathy hissed. “You all are- you all _feel_ and it’s disgusting.”

“You are incorrect,” Logan said. He stood up, ankles begging to drop him back against the floor; forcefully, he remained standing, glaring in the face of Apathy. “Would you like an explanation as to why?”

“Shoot,” Apathy said.

“Anxiety keeps Thomas from acting rashly. He protects Thomas.”

“He holds him back.”

“Sometimes. But the others help to balance him out. We prevent him from crippling Thomas. Morality keeps Thomas kind; he is what allows Thomas to forgive those who wronged him. He is the centre of Thomas’ love and kindness.” Logan choked and spat out a mouthful of blood. “Prince- Creativity; he fuels Thomas’ passion. He allows him to come up with innovative and new ideas. He provides content for the world to enjoy.”

“So?”

“I- And I, I provide the logic. I provide the plans and the voice of reason. I am what helps to get tasks completed. I keep Thomas healthy.” Logan’s foot brushed against the handle of the sword. “What do you provide, Apathy? Nothing.”

Apathy snarled. “You are wrong, Logan.”

“I am rarely wrong,” Logan said. “This is not an instance in which I am incorrect. Patton was right about locking you up.” Logan jolted forward, kicking his feet upward with all of his strength against the sword. The sword flicked upward and he knelt down, hissing past the pain as he snatched it by its hilt.

“Sides can’t die,” Apathy mocked.

“But sides can be damned. And I’m going to make you suffer as you made me suffer.” Apathy flinched and backed up a step. “An eye for an eye- justice. Was that not what you were aiming to do to Patton?”

“I made a mistake.”

“Too bad. Mistakes can be deadly.” Logan raised the sword and slashed an arc around his body. The sword glowed with dark purple electricity as it slammed into Apathy. A sickening _crack_ echoed across the garage and Apathy melted into a dark black gas that somehow made the room even chillier.

Panting, Logan limped over to the wall-sized door. He pulled up the latch and the door began to rise. Black gas slid in through the bottom. Logan coughed and wheezed as the gas that once was Apathy joined in with the army that was ploughing through the door.

_You’re replaceable. You’re replaceable-_

Logan struggled to stand. “No, I’m not,” he said into the room. “I am necessary to Thomas.”

The gas gathered around him, feeding on his weakness. _Give up. You’re replaceable. Lay down. The garage will take care of you._

“I refuse to be bitter,” Logan recited, choking. “I refuse to let failure define me. I will get up again. I am not replaceable. I am essential.”

The gas thinned out. Logan concentrated all his energy on pushing the giant door shut; the gas, desperate not to be left inside the garage began leaking out. The door felt heavier and heavier. _You’re replaceable; you’re worthless. You are not essential._

“I am essential. I am essential. I am essential,” Logan repeated. The mantra formed on his lips like clay. “I am irreplaceable. Thomas needs me. They need me. I am needed.”

The door slammed shut. Logan wrenched at the latch and it creaked closed. Logan panted, sweat pooling down his forehead like a waterfall. He collapsed on the ground, tears of exhaustion beginning to press at his eyes. There was a loud bang and then the long door was flung back open. For a brief moment, Logan was terrified that Apathy was back; terrified that he was somehow opening the door and back for revenge on Logan.

However, those fears were put aside quickly when Roman ran in, his sword, raised high. Logan was confused; wasn’t- He looked down where the sword he had conjured still laid. That didn’t make sense-

Virgil stood behind Roman, frightened but looking determined. Patton looked absolutely murderous.

“Oh my God,” Virgil choked out. He crossed the room in an instant and dropped to his knees beside Logan. “Oh God.” His hands were trembling as they travelled over Logan’s hair and chest and arms and-

Roman gently pulled Virgil aside. “Virge, I’ve got this. Patton, grab me some bandages.”

Patton was pale and shaky as he ran to the desk and opened a drawer. He handed Roman a thick stack of something soft that was laid on his bleeding ribs. Logan winced in pain and Virgil reached out with trembling fingers and smoothed back his hair.

“I got rid of Apathy,” Logan mumbled. He looked right into Roman’s eyes. “I defeated Apathy, Roman.”

“Good job, Lo. Good _good_ , wonderful job,” Roman praised. He looked to Patton. “Get me some tape.”

Virgil smoothed Logan’s hair again; it felt wonderful. It was such a stark contrast to the cruel and merciless touches of Apathy. Virgil’s movements weren’t calculated or manipulative. They were desperate, nervous, and comforting. They were everything Apathy’s could not be.

“I locked the door. Apathy can’t come back. We can seal this room forever,” Logan choked out.

“Thank you, Logan. Relax,” Patton said softly. Logan almost shuddered in response; inwardly he decided he would try to never bash Patton’s… “icky” emotional responses anymore. “Okay, buddy?”

Logan nodded, feeling his body still trembling. He’d been- he’d been afraid. Afraid that this was his damnation. That he’d be locked up in the garage forever. But here they were- Virgil, Patton, and Roman, all looking at him with concern and care. It made Logan feel-

Good.

Really good.

His eyes slid shut in exhaustion, faintly aware of being lifted up and taken out of the hellish garage.

-O-

Logan gasped awake in Roman’s room. He was lying on Roman’s bed, the huge canopy bed making him feel impossibly small. Especially since he was buried under several thick, warm comforters. His hands instantly reached for his ribs, anxious to protect the injured part of his body. He didn’t register Roman running across the room and gently trying to coax Logan into dropping his hands.

“Logan, stop. It’s okay- you’re okay.” Logan raised his head and met Roman’s wide and protective gaze. Logan slowly dropped his hands from clasping his ribs. “That’s good, Specs. Good.” Roman climbed on the bed and sat across from Logan. “Do they hurt?”

“They-” Logan burst out into a coughing fit; his tortured lungs felt as if they were going to shrivel up inside of him and quit working. Finally, he regained his composure. He realized Roman was tightly grasping his hand, worriedly looking into his eyes. “It would not be inaccurate to say that everything hurts at the present moment.”

Roman let out a little hum of sympathy. “I would be shocked if it didn’t hurt.” His thumb was gently gracing over Logan’s trembling hand; it didn’t feel right. Logan had never struggled with shaking before. Was this going to become a reoccurring problem?

“I am afraid right now, Roman.”

“You’re perfectly safe,” Roman soothed.

“I know that,” Logan snapped, frustrated. “Logically, I can figure that out. However, I keep-” He ran his free hand over his ribs. The skin seemed to shudder under his touch. “I am feeling unsafe in the back of my mind. Somehow. It defies logic entirely- I am right here. I am fine; I am _fine_.”

Roman’s arms wrapped around Logan as his body began to tremble. “It’s okay, Logan. It’s okay.”

Logan felt the shape of Roman’s sword against his hip and Logan managed to pull himself away slightly to ask, “I… in the garage, I thought I had conjured your sword.”

Roman smiled softly and stood up, waking over to his dresser and picking up the sword that Logan had conjured. Logan stared, looking from the sword in Roman’s hands to the one sheathed at his side. It was as if he were seeing double. “You mean this?” Roman asked, giving a hand gesture to the sword in his hands.

“I-” Logan blinked, unable to comprehend. “There were only two swords.”

“You created this, Logan. I dunno how on earth you did, but you did. From your mind alone.”

“I am not creative,” Logan said. “That- I cannot create.”

“Apparently you can,” Roman said. He walked over and sat back down next to Logan, balancing the sword on both of their knees.

“Impossible,” Logan whispered.

“Improbable. Not impossible. C’mon, you’re better and probability and that crap than I am.”

“Perhaps it was a… conjured copy.”

Roman shook his head. “Why do you try so hard to discredit yourself? I am creativity. I can recognize a creation when I see one. You created this, my dude.”

Logan remained silent, eyeing the sword with a curious eye. If he hadn’t known it was made by him, he would have said it had excellent craftsmanship. It was sturdy but beautiful. Now that Logan looked closer, he could see it was similar to Roman’s, but it was also different. It wasn’t curved in the slightest and the hilt was a little smaller. It was a little sharper than Roman’s from lack of use as well as longer.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, Logan,” Roman said quietly. Logan found the statement quiet random.

He still appreciated it though.

-O-

The four sides stood in front of the door to the garage. Logan absentmindedly traced his fingers over the wrapped wound under his shirt. If he wasn’t careful, he’d take himself back to the garage, lying on the floor and bleeding all over the concrete. He could hear his laboured breaths; he could feel each painful intake of breath.

An arm looped through his own and he lifted his eyes to see Virgil, smiling dryly at him. “Get out of your head, Lo.” Logan realized his breathing was distorted- panting. Irregular. He gasped and began taking careful and controlled breaths. Virgil’s eyebrows knitted together in concern. “You’re okay, Logan.”

Logan nodded. He knew that; he did. He knew. He did but… it was hard. To understand. To accept. He wondered if the way he was feeling was the way Virgil always felt. Constantly ready to fight, ready to hide. Always aiming to protect himself from a danger that might not even be there.

Footsteps approached from behind them and Roman stood, sword sheathed in his belt. He laid a hand on Logan’s shoulder, squeezing softly. Logan could barely restrain himself from crumbling to the ground; instead, he allowed Roman to pull him closer to his side. Patton held out a small matchbox and handed it to Logan.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell anyone about the garage,” he mumbled. “It was almost a deadly mistake.”

“We make mistakes to learn from them,” Logan soothed. “Do not be too hard on yourself.”

“I say we burn this damn door to the ground,” Virgil said.

Logan nodded. “I agree.” He flipped open the box and pulled out one of the matches. Then he slid it across the side of the box and a flame flickered to life from the tip of the match. Without a second thought, Logan threw it onto the door. The flame burst into colours- red, green, blue, and black.

Logan’s eyes flashed for a second; he was back in there, smothering-

The flames flicked yellow. Then purple. They licked the metal door until in its place was a small vent. Then, with a loud _pop,_ it vanished and a wall took its place. The four continued staring at the wall until Logan sighed tiredly.  

“Let’s go speak to Thomas.”

-O-

They did; they explained everything while Thomas’ gaze remained fixed on Logan, brown eyes soft and full of concern. Logan sat on the couch the entire time, legs crossed and hands tucked neatly on top of his lap. Roman, Patton, and Virgil stood in their usual places as Thomas sat right beside Logan.

“Wow,” Thomas said after they all finished. “That’s- wow.”

“I agree,” Virgil said.

“Apathy’s… gone then?” Thomas asked. “Completely.”

Logan nodded. “He no longer has any effect on you.”

“Which is good, right?” Thomas questioned.

Patton nodded.

“Wow,” Thomas said again. “I am incredibly proud of you, Logan.”

Logan’s chest tightened; he pretended it was another physical symptom of his injuries healing. “I appreciate your… pride, Thomas.”

Thomas laughed and took up Logan’s hand. “Seriously, though. You’re okay, right?”

Logan pretended his hands weren’t shaking; he pretended he wasn’t swallowing down memories and fear and tears and- He pretended. Because Thomas deserved reassurance that everything was fine now.

“I am okay.”

-O-

“I can get rid of the memories,” Patton said.

Logan frowned. “What?”

“I created the room- I can destroy your memory of it,” Patton said softly. “I can make you forget. I can make everyone forget if you really want.”

“I wouldn’t shake anymore?” Logan asked, raising his hand. They had not quite stopped shaking since he’d escaped. It was a constant shaking, less forceful than it was at first, but it was still there.

Patton shrugged. “Probably not. Your anxiety would likely go away if I got rid of all the memories. You wouldn’t have to be weighed down by it anymore.”

Logan looked down at his quivering hands; how nice would it be to not have to be troubled with it? But would forgetting even truly help? What if it was always a weight in the back of his mind even if it wasn’t vivid? Logan supposed that even if he wanted to forget, he couldn’t. He _shouldn’t_. “I- I don’t think I want to forget,” Logan admitted.

Patton nodded. “I’m very proud of you, Logan. And I- I’m so sorry.”

Logan jerked back, for once entirely floored by Patton’s words. “Sorry? Why on earth are you _sorry_?”

“It’s my fault Apathy was able to get to you. I should have destroyed him from the start.”

“Perhaps,” Logan mused. “However, your kindness prevented you from doing so. While your feelings cloud your judgement at times and can be frustrating, I do not want you to become… apathetic. Destroying Apathy from the start goes against who you are. It would not have been right.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Quiet. Then, “You’re my hero, Logan.”

Logan felt his face flush. “While that is flattering, I do not feel like much of a hero. I am no hero compared to you three.”

“Falsehood,” Patton said, grinning.

“Oh, you think you’re clever?”

“A little.”

Logan smirked. “All right; I’ll give you that.” He drew in a sharp breath. “Thank you. For coming for me. For- saving me.”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Patton asked.

Logan shrugged. “Perhaps, I feared that you all were frustrated with me and felt that I was unnecessary. If not unnecessary, replaceable.”

“Logan?”

“Yes?” he asked.

“Look at me.” He realised his head was down, eyes fixed on his shoes. Slowly, he met eyes with Patton who looked at him with an expression of sadness. “You know that’s not true, right? You’re not replaceable.”

“I realise that,” Logan said and he meant it. But it was just- something was tempting him to be open and vulnerable and tell Patton about what had happened. About the mists and how Apathy had made him feel… _replaceable._

“Lo?”

Logan cleared his throat. “Apathy just made the idea of me being replaceable seem very… logical.”

“But you know it’s not, right?” Patton asked, eyes big and wide.

“Of course. You all would fall apart without me.”

Patton snorted. “Truth. Want to come bake with me for a bit?”

“If I can sit down. My ribs are still a bit sore.”

Patton glanced at Logan’s chest, eyes flashing briefly. “Of course, kiddo. I’m… I’m glad you’re okay.”

Logan hesitantly gave Patton a smile.

“Me too, Patton. Me too.”  

**Author's Note:**

> So. I’ve been working on this since November and it originally was my NaNo project but I decided that this couldn’t make it to 50k without it being stretched out. Therefore, that is why this thing is only 9k.  
> Also, I have to thank @parkersanders on tumblr for helping me out when I was super stuck on this by giving me an idea... I’m not gonna spoil anything, but he really helped me out and kept me encouraged when this still was my NaNo project.. Love you, Xaan. :)  
> Please leave me feedback. (Oh my God, I sound needy aha) I have never wrote anything like this and I am terrified that I left some plotholes or grammar errors despite all my editing. Even if it’s just a “this wasn’t your best” or a “good job, buddy!” helps me a lot. :)


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